


Kindred Spirit

by neevebrody



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Animal Transformation, Episode Related, Episode: s01e06 Childhood's End, Gen, Implied Relationships, M/M, Shapeshifting, Spirit Animals, Team Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-01
Updated: 2013-07-01
Packaged: 2017-12-16 17:55:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/864924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neevebrody/pseuds/neevebrody
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life had gotten real interesting around Atlantis in the year since the team's last visit to M7G-677.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kindred Spirit

Written for SGA ReverseBang, inspired by gorgeous artwork from syble4 - click the preview to see the full version and be sure to leave the artist feedback.

[ ](http://syble4.livejournal.com/232275.html)

  
Sheppard swept the perimeter of the West Pier, watchful, waiting, noting something in the air. A muffled yelp behind him brought his ears to attention. Quickly, but quietly, he bounded over to the source. Rodney stood beside an overturned garbage bale, poking at a ragged hole and making it larger.

"Jesus, McKay," he said, walking up to his friend—his partner in crime. "This is your stealth mode?"

"I wasn't expecting this thing to topple over. It's three times my size; it could have killed me. I noticed the hole and then this… It seemed appropriate to investigate," Rodney added, still pawing at the hole.

"What is it you think you've got there?" Vision sharp, John turned his head one way and the other, making sure they hadn't been detected. He heard a soft ripping noise and then a dull clatter on the floor of the pier.

"Bingo!" Rodney cried, then immediately shushed himself.

Sheppard did a quick reconnoiter of the area and circled back. He looked down at the cache of bones lying there. Some of them still had pink flesh clinging to them. It startled him when Rodney nuzzled up beside him and removed the bandana from around Sheppard's neck; a chill shimmied down his back as he looked into the cold blue of McKay's eyes. They shone easily in the dark, like beacons.

He watched as Rodney placed the bones on the bandana one by one. The scent of their find was tantalizing and trumped only by Rodney's scent. Rodney was spice and the sweet smell of herbal shampoo; he was coffee and the lonely shadow of aftershave mixed with the sweat of someone who thinks on his feet, or in Rodney's case, five worst-case, we're-all-gonna-die scenarios ahead. Funny, John had worked out the same mix of scents that first year, but he didn't need to think of that now. Someone needed to keep watch and get them back inside without incident.

"And, for the _pièce de résistance…_ " Rodney crowed, placing something down on top of the bones. He turned to look at Sheppard. "I mean, what idiot throws away an entire muffin, for god's sake? Not even a nibble."

Sheppard glared. "You're not going to…"

"No, no, no—it's for Teyla and Torren. It might have been for you, Colonel Grumpy, but don't think I haven't noticed a disturbing lack of sniffing around my hindquarters this evening."

As Rodney wrapped up their prize, John licked his lips, his mouth curling into a smile that showed his teeth. Life had gotten real interesting around Atlantis in the year since the team's last visit to M7G-677.

~~*~~

John set the puddlejumper down just outside the new shield range and he and his team prepared for the long walk into the main village. Not a lot had changed on M7G-677 except the obvious evidence of an increase in population. The last reports showed people filling the areas the greater shield protection gave them, new births, and a much appreciated uptick in the life expectancy column.

Even though no one had met them at the landing site, they could hear the steps of the lookouts on either side of the path following on their way to the main village. John had expected to see Keras. This was John's first trip back; it had been a long time. The truth of it was if the communique from Keras hadn't mentioned Lieutenant Ford's name, he wouldn't be there now. With Ronon at his side and Teyla at their six, he began to notice familiar markers of the village.

Dr. Zelenka had filed a report noting the kids had been exploring the ruins of the Old City to get in touch with their ancestors – in a way other than carrying on with "the pact." As they passed ornately carved statuary, John worked up an 'all-is-right-with-the-world' grin at McKay's incessant mumblings about native deities. A few yards ahead, the sentries broke free of their forest cover and sprinted ahead into the village. Moments later, the team faced those same sentries, staring down the shafts of some serious looking arrows.

Before Ronon could raise his gun, Sheppard stopped him with a wave of his hand. "It's okay, kids." He addressed their welcoming committee in a voice meant to be soothing and pliant. "We're expected. I'm Sheppard and this is my team… Teyla, Ronon Dex, and I'm sure you remember…"

"John Sheppard!"

The man walking toward them beamed. Keras' hair was longer and the scruff of a beard covered his face, a trend noted in several of the company joining him. None of the men looked like Ares, and John didn't figure they'd get a hearty welcome from him anyway. Keras, John was happy to see, looked older, or at least more mature.

When Keras embraced him, John felt the warmth of the man, recalling with a measure of disquiet how close they'd come to not ever having a moment like this. Keras greeted the others amid the clamor of many small children surrounding him.

"Yours?" inquired Sheppard.

Keras smiled, open and warm. "Not all of them," he said, "but my family now lives here with me."

"I can see where that'd be good for population growth."

"Or the opposite," McKay murmured under his breath, paying no mind to Sheppard's scowl.

Up close, Keras still appeared the leader he'd proven himself to be years earlier. Fine lines had begun to show around his eyes and there were stray streaks of silver at his temples and woven into his beard. But his smile was still the one of that young and innocent twenty-four year-old. While it was good to see Keras again, the most important thing on John's mind was why they'd been summoned. It wasn't as if John had forgotten Keras or his feeling about the sacrifice that younger man had been so willing to make. But Rodney had made certain the kids were safe and knowing that made the inevitable passage of time easier to… excuse. And maybe he did feel crappy that it hadn't taken much more than a mention of Lieutenant Ford to get his boots back on the planet, but it was… Ford. To say his visit was 'personal' understated what was in John's heart.

"So," Keras said, still holding on to John's hand. "Tell me why you have come—this is an occasion indeed."

At first, John thought he had misunderstood, but the puzzled looks from his teammates confirmed that he'd heard correctly. "We've come about Lieutenant Ford," he said slowly, feeling something dark well up in his stomach.

Keras led them all inside the new Council hut—constructed on ground level, a fact that made Rodney, at least, happy—and John explained the message they'd received using Keras' IDC.

"The man gave your name," John said. "He claimed to have information about Ford and specifically requested my presence—then the signal broke up and we lost it." He could see from the look in Keras' eyes that he had not sent the message.

In fact, Keras apologized profusely. "Dr. McKay told us about what happened to Lieutenant Ford as well as his own horrible suffering due to the Wraith enzyme."

John shot a glance at Rodney. Keras vowed he would get to the bottom of such a hurtful prank. While he was speaking, voices could be heard outside the hut. At first, it was just a stirring, a buzz of activity, but then they heard people running, children crying, and panicked shouts from some of the men.

The door to the hut burst open. A sentry who looked to be all of thirteen years old, his chest heaving, started to speak. He looked surprised to find strangers and aimed a quick glance at Keras before fleeing to help gather up the children.

The concern on Keras' face wasn't hard to miss. "I'm sorry I couldn't be of any help," he told them. "But as I say, I will do all I can to find out who contacted you."

Sheppard stood with him. "Trouble?"

"It is nothing—overactive imaginations. There have been sightings of a strange animal. The descriptions have been so varied that we are not quite sure what it is, but there is nothing to fear."

The scurrying villagers and the cries of the younger children didn't seem to bear that out. "Sure sounds like fear to me," Sheppard pointed out.

"They are calling for you, Keras," Teyla said as she moved to the door. "Perhaps we can help."

Keras stepped outside and hailed one of the lookouts, a boy who looked older than the rest. He had sandy hair and John recognized him as Neleus, the boy who'd saved his life… and Teyla's and Ford's.

"Get the others," Keras told him. "Major Sheppard and his team will be leaving."

John stepped up and watched the boy out of sight. He turned to smile at Keras, who looked even more ready to see the back of them. "I got a promotion. It's Lieutenant Colonel now..." Keras stood woodenly. "… but I'm sure that means nothing to you. So, why the bum's rush? We didn't even have time to catch up."

"I will escort you as far as the old city, but then you must go—Neleus and his men will go with you the rest of the way. There is no trouble," Keras insisted. "We have it under control." He held out his arm as if to usher them out.

Outside, everyone seemed to shuffle their feet, not really wanting to move on. After a moment of furtive looks, Ronon grabbed John's shoulder. "I'm not leaving—we can't leave them like this."

John gave him a nod. "I think the kids have got this—those archers have pretty good aim, just ask Keras." He patted Ronon's back, hoping he understood the code, then turned to lead them all back toward the old city.

The path whittled away through a dense copse of trees. The canopy dimmed their vision but they could hear the sounds of footsteps off to the sides as they walked. John counted two archers in the lead and another two behind. He guessed Keras was being doubly cautious—the kids still had no idea what kind of firepower John and his team were carrying.

"The ruins in the old city seem well taken care of," Teyla remarked.

"Our first order after forming the new Council was to destroy the Wraith shrine and to honor our true elders."

"I bet Ares wasn't too happy about that," John said, keeping one ear trained on the forest. "Strange, we didn't see him among the welcoming committee."

Keras seemed to avoid the question. "We sought to restore the ruin sites as part of our honor."

"Sites?" Rodney asked. "As in plural?"

"When you increased the shield coverage, we sent out teams to explore." Keras turned to John; a small grin surfaced. "Lieutenant Ford's compass was very useful in helping to set our boundaries." At the mention of Ford's name, Keras seemed to stumble, not sure whether to continue.

"Near one of the western borders, we located another city. We found records and drawings from the elders. Some of our people left the main village to settle there and to study the ruins—Ares was one of them. We call them the Old Ones."

"And this 'thing', these reported sightings?" John asked, getting back to the matter at hand. He couldn't put his finger on it on just what was pinging his hinky meter, but something had sure spooked Keras.

"If it will make you feel better, you should know that I am in no danger."

John wasn't sure he liked the emphasis on the "I" in that remark. Just then, something darted by in the forest—a flash of orange, long pointed ears. John's heart skipped as his brain registered the height of the ears: eye level.

They were almost to the ruins now. Whatever was following them was undoubtedly intelligent and knew its surroundings. It would be waiting for them.

John slowed and held up his hand. Surely, Keras understood they wouldn't leave with danger lurking. "Hold up," he said, hands now clasped tight to his P-90. Keras turned to him; the look in his eyes left John deflated. Keras wasn't afraid for himself or his people.

Before John could fully process that thought, the forest around them burst open with the snap of twigs and the flurry of branches. He heard the sound of animal snarls on the wind and had flashes of multi-colored fur in his eyes.

He had no time to get his weapon up before it was on him, spinning him, knocking him off his feet, and wrestling him to the ground. Disoriented, he dared not fire for fear of hitting Keras or his teammates.

Instead, he thrust his weapon forward. It connected; he heard the yelp and crunch of bone giving way. Sand stung his eyes as he drew back for a second try, and then he felt a fire in his leg, an unholy burning in his calf just below the knee.

He tried to look beyond the dust of their struggle. Why hadn't someone pulled this thing off him—Ronon could take down a gnat in the next village with that blaster of his. "Take a shot, damn it," Sheppard yelled, swiveling his head back and forth trying to locate his teammates. But he found only the face of a fox filling his vision, its head as large as a human's. A misshapen embodiment of evil, it bared teeth that glistened with blood.

John used all his strength to keep the creature at bay. He tried to ignore the burn as it spread quickly along his entire body. In a wave, it engulfed him, threw a shadow across his line of sight, and set his heart pounding so hard he thought it would burst from the force.

In a hot rush, the strength of ten men filled him up and he was able to push the creature away. The shadows faded, replaced by a curtain of red, and through it, he could see the others and knew why no one had come to his rescue.

Other creatures, dark and formless, had attacked the group. He did not see Keras, just more large animals thrashing about. Ronon struggled with a dark figure that fought on two legs and tall enough to look its prey in the eye. The air was alive with growls and barks and a strange hissing laughter behind him. Teyla wrestled on the ground with a blond blur, blood trickling from a wound on its shoulder. Rodney scrabbled to his feet, breathing heavily, while another of the animals – large, wolfish, and as white as an Antarctic beach – circled him.

John could hear Rodney's labored breathing as loudly as if it were right in his ear. And then he realized he could hear everything – the blood rushing his veins, the stir of insects in the air, the rustle of leaves high in the trees, and the flap of wings from a great, black bird soaring above them. Just like the white beast, it was circling… circling…

He managed to get to his feet. At once, he was aware that he had no more pain. In fact, he'd never felt better. The air he heaved into his lungs seemed to energize him, made him feel even taller than his six-foot frame. Every movement seemed like a long, sinuous stretch; the nearly erotic pleasure of it washed over him.

He had the urge to run; he felt if he started he might never stop, but something held him back—the creature he'd fought was behind him now. A hunger gnawed the pit of his stomach—a hunger to feed his muscles, to break away. It was an almost maddening need but, amazingly, he could still think beyond all of it. He needed to help his team, help Keras.

Rodney's screams echoed in his ears, a sound that clawed at the very marrow of his bones. He tried to wrench free and that's when the pain returned, like a bolt of lightning through his brain. His body convulsed violently; he heard cracking and splintering, and to his horror, he knew the sounds were coming from within him. He felt contorted and misshapen, just like that fox who'd bitten him.

Rodney was gone. Another figure stood where Rodney had been. It had a gleaming coat of gray and white, its muzzle snapping at the air as if it were trying to speak. The intense blue eyes cut like gemstones through the space between them. When its gaze leveled on John, he felt exposed and raw, as if his innermost thoughts were scrawled across his chest in his own blood. The feeling surged through his body like current, a sudden sense of protectiveness and possessiveness so strong it kindled a fierce cry in the back of his throat, with a near orgasmic urgency to let it out.

Pulling himself up a little taller, he gave in to the craving. In mid-howl, beams of red light sizzled through the air.

Free to move now, John lurched forward; he needed to find Rodney, needed to help Teyla… Ronon. His breath grew labored and his heart began to slow. He caught a scent on the air just as the forest around him fell black, like dropping a curtain on a stage, the force of it slamming him to the sandy ground.

~~*~~

Sheppard started awake. Christ, what a crazy fucking nightmare! He opened his eyes and tried to convince himself he was still dreaming but the drumbeat inside his head and the burning in his leg told him otherwise. He looked around the large hut before he saw Keras, seated by his side. Litters and pallets lay on the floor and John recognized the cots, a gift from Atlantis. The sun streaming in through random breaks in the thatched roof hurt John's eyes.

"Lie quiet," a soothing voice said. He turned to see a teenaged girl with braided blond hair attending to Rodney's shoulder. Teyla appeared to be sleeping on one of the cots and Ronon on another, his muscles twitching in random patterns.

When John attempted to sit up on his own, he couldn't manage without Keras' help.

"You should rest," Keras began.

"Bullshit! What the hell, Keras?" His friend's face was closed, and as John waited for his answer, snatches of the nightmare interrupted his thoughts like static. Colored fur, angry snarls, the burning, and the need to run all passed like flipping channels. He remembered not seeing Keras – just large animals fighting, one larger and lighter in color, their snarls and snaps still echoing in his brain along with the cries of his team.

Keras placed a hand on John's shoulder, if not to comfort him then to placate him, John thought. John reached for his earpiece before realizing it was likely lost in the forest and it would do him no good inside the shield cover anyway. "What happened out there?" he demanded. This time, his tone was decidedly no-nonsense but even then Keras didn't seem to want to answer him. Before he could, the pretty girl was at John's side.

"You remember Cleya, don't you, Sheppard?"

He didn't really, but John nodded and smiled as he watched the girl pull back a gross-looking bandage from his leg. The wound oozed and frothed with an orange tint.

"You're fine," Cleya declared as she readied a clean bandage. "This will heal nicely."

No, god damn it! He was not fine. His team had been attacked and he had been bitten by some… he didn't even know what and for the love of god would somebody just tell him what happened. He leveled his gaze on Keras again.

As if he'd heard the unspoken plea, Keras replied, "When the others are awake." He glanced at Cleya and John felt a prick in his arm. Keras stood and the walls seemed to drip darkness as John watched him walk out of the hut.

He drifted, floating in a strange dream of seeing Ronon strapped down, his muscles contorting and changing shape, of his angry shouts becoming first muted growls then a loud roar that shook the walls. The color in the room became a dusty lion yellow and the air grew heavy and pungent with blood-scented breath.

John jerked awake, blinking and trying to orient himself. Across the room, Ronon laid very still, two leather straps holding him down at the chest and thighs. Silence filled the space between John's ears with numbing nothingness. He sat straight up, adrenaline racing hot through his gut, suddenly aware of a hand touching him.

"Let's take a walk, Sheppard."

John didn't want to take a walk. He wanted to rap Keras upside his head and demand to know what happened, but there was concern in Keras' tone and he had others to think about.

He stood with ease, no more pain in his leg. His head was clear and he didn't even limp as he and Keras exited the hut.

Even though the sun was lower, its brightness warmed him, lulling him into a kind of pseudo-calm. "What about my team?" John asked.

"They'll be fine until we return—they're being well cared for." Keras' reply told John that he knew damn well what was going on and was determined to let John in on it his own way. The light struck something around Keras' neck, a metallic gleam that fixed John's attention. It was Ford's compass.

"As I told you, when Dr. McKay increased the shield coverage, we explored—set out to mark the boundaries and find good places to expand and begin new villages. One of the many interesting finds was another old city."

As they walked, every nuance of their footsteps was audible, the muted give of the mossy ground and the dry snap of twigs. He could even detect the differences in their strides. They walked amid the dusty-boot scrub of the path, with the blue of the sky filling his eyes, and the musk of the forest rising to where he could taste the sharp green of the vines and grass. He didn't need to ask Keras where they were going; he knew. His body hummed with it, a feeling that made John literally want to jump out of his skin.

"You sense it, don't you?"

He didn't answer Keras and knew in his heart there was no need. A few feet away, the forest path opened up and gave way to a small clearing. Beyond a few standing stones rose more statues and the tops of huts could be seen. There were even a few tree houses nestled in the tall branches. _The Old Ones_ , John thought, recalling something Keras has said earlier.

"It may seem unnecessary—and a bit dramatic," said Keras. "Bringing you out here to explain. But this is the best way."

As they drew closer, John noticed the carvings on some of the stones: large animals dancing, running, depicted on two legs and on all fours. He laughed to himself at the absurdity of where this was going, but in his heart, the humor rang hollow.

He followed Keras to a stand of trees at the outer edge of the clearing. A rope ladder hung from a small structure perched in the branches. He scaled the ladder with an ease that surprised him given the events of the day. Inside, strewn across the floor were papers and a large book that appeared to be as old as the city itself. "After we learned from McKay about the real reason for the Sacrifice, some of the villagers wanted to know more about the true Elders – the expansion of our boundaries made that possible." Keras sat down amid the papers and motioned for John to join him.

"Something tells me you found out more than you wanted to know," John said, kneeling down and shuffling a few of the papers. He watched as Keras opened the book.

"Ares and his people had lived here for some time before news of this reached the Council," Keras replied. "It was Pelius who finally advised us of what they had found here. I was chosen by the Council to meet with Ares. He showed me what I am going to show you. It is the explanation I must give you." He turned the book so John could see.

As his eyes skimmed the frail parchment-like surface, his brain raced ahead to counter what he saw there, searching for other explanations, anything that made sense. But what he saw there was a perfect depiction of what John thought had been a bad dream. He slammed the book shut.

"You're not serious?" John said. He stood and began to pace. His stride was fluid, even in the small space. "You're telling me I'm some kind of goddamned werewolf – that my team is—" He stopped short, recalling the blue of Rodney's eyes, the strength and quickness of Ronon's movements; they seemed different from the way he felt, and he couldn't even explain why he thought so. His blood rose; the sound of it swishing in his ears was almost deafening.

Before he knew what he was doing, he jerked Keras off the floor, hands fisted in the coarse material of his shirt. "Is this what we have to look forward to?" John snarled. "At the mercy of the full moon for the rest of our lives?"

Something dark and dangerous flashed in Keras' eyes, turning them an iridescent green-gold, and John would swear Keras' teeth when bared were sharp, and there was something in the scent of his breath just before he pushed John away. It was gone as quickly as it had come. John released him and both men stood, breathing heavily, one warily eyeing the other.

"I don't know what you mean," Keras said finally. "This has nothing to do with the moon."

John tugged at the collar of his shirt as heat flushed his face. Ridiculous, he murmured to himself. Fear flooded his stomach just the same, twisting it up like a dog with a ragdoll.

"Changing," he managed to choke out. "I… I thought it was a bad dream, a poison arrow, anything... and now you're saying it's all real, part of your elders' legacy?"

"That is correct."

John nodded and pressed Keras' shoulder, forcing him to sit. "So, now you're going to tell me everything. What it all has to do with Ares and why we were brought here." It wasn't a question.

~~*~~

"Oh my god! So now, every full—wait, we have two moons in Atlantis—how do we know it will be the same cy—oh my god!"

"This has nothing to do with the moon," John said, fixing Rodney with a pointed look. Sunlight sun now slanted through the thatch in crazy angles, leaving some of the medical hut in shadow. "Let Keras explain."

"Our elders called it Nau'li. It is the hidden bond between the natural world and our true selves—a protective and guiding spirit given to all who choose to seek it. That guide is called the Hala; it means 'the heart that is within' and each person has their own. It is this form we believe will accompany us into the next world. If we are at peace with our Hala, it will lead us."

John scratched his chin. "That's kind of different than what you told me before the—before you were going to—you know," he said with a wave of his hand."

"Because of the sacrifices, the number of full growns fell away until no one knew of these teachings. Because of the shield, we were able to recapture this legacy."

Keras told of the Elders' belief that the Nau'li was never meant to do harm. "What Ares did was wrong and he has suffered for it—he became Kit'ue or the evil counterpart to the Hala. According to the elders, the bite from Kit'ue is considered to be cursed. In your case, I believe it can be less so if you understand."

John looked at each of his teammates for a reaction. Their faces echoed his thoughts; he wasn't sure it sounded any more believable hearing it a second time.

"Now do you see why I wanted you to leave? I would rather it had happened to me than have you all suffer."

Keras' question was rhetorical, of course, but there was something in the way he had said it. John thought back—there'd been no one there during his struggle with Ares except his team and those—

"It already has," John said with slow realization.

Keras bowed his head. "Ares' retribution," he replied. "I would have gladly given up the leadership."

John ached at the earnest tone of Keras' voice. He didn't need to think long about the changes in his own life and wondered what the intervening years had wrought for that innocent and brave young man he'd left years ago. John had assured him the best was yet to come.

"But we decided to let the villages choose. There were some who thought Ares had been foolish and acted hastily regarding the shield—and some praised his actions. In the end, it was decided that I would remain as leader. After one more year, we formed the new Council—Ares held a seat there until he chose to leave for the second city.

"Ares blamed you, Sheppard, and me for men who were once like brothers laughing at him. He kept the Elders' secret to himself and didn't stop until he had formed a plan of revenge."

"So," John said, "When I didn't come back with the other teams…"

"Ares made sure you would. When we learned of your Lieutenant Ford, he found a weakness. Pelius had the identification code. She was always a little soft on Ares; it would not have taken much for him to gain her confidence. In her defense, she likes to believe the best in every man."

Keras now looked pained, as if he didn't want to say what came next. "Ares wasn't satisfied for his followers to just _learn_ the gift. He saw it as his own personal legacy. He had been the one to discover the other city and the teachings there. For a time, this made him superior and no longer the center of others' jokes. After a while, when his people could also perform the Nau'li, he vowed to have the ultimate power over them."

"So… these followers were more like victims."

Keras answered Ronon with a nod. "They were all connected to Ares then—just as you four are now, and connected to each other."

"Wow!" exclaimed McKay, propping himself up on his cot, sarcasm dripping from his words. "This would almost be kind of cool, except for the part where I'm half a second away from saving our bacon and, oops, now I'm man's best friend—a hell of a lot of good that's going to do anyone."

"Dr. McKay, do you see that happening around you here? Have you seen it on any of your visits?"

"But Keras," John interrupted, "You told me our choice had been taken away—the curse of being bitten. Rodney has a point. If this shift or whatever feeds off of adrenaline, or fear or… where we're from… it's just—we don't lead very peaceful lives."

"It feeds as you say off what is in your heart. If your mind is clouded, then all is not in place for the Nau'li. For you, it is the urges you need to be worried about. For the elders, in order to perform the Nau'li, their minds had to be clear to prepare the way. We can control the shift—"

"And how do you know that?" Ronon asked, his expression one usually reserved for anyone who's crossed him. "Why should we believe anything you say?"

John put a hand out as Ronon advanced on Keras. "Take it easy, Chewy, let the man talk."

Keras had not moved, not even a flinch or a blink. He looked up at Ronon. "Because I live with the same curse and I know it can be controlled. You only need to learn."

"Well, let's just hope the curve isn't too steep," John replied. He'd been watching Teyla throughout Keras' explanation.

She seemed to have her back up at hearing that Ares blamed the team – not only for alerting the Wraith, but for rescuing Keras from the sacrifice. If the protection of the shield was to be believed, Ares could have parlayed his year as leader of the Elders into much more. When that hadn't happened, he'd chosen to move away from the main village and plot revenge.

But when the talk turned to the power of a bite from Kit'ue, Teyla's face had paled and her look changed to one of worry, even sadness.

Her eyes now flicked back and forth from Keras to John, down to the dusty floor and then back to John. Her face was pained and drawn.

When she spoke, her voice was soft but with an edge that bore out her bravery. "Keras, I am going to bear a child…"

It sounded as if she wanted to say more, and John was grateful she didn't. They'd had enough bombshells for the time being. He glanced at Ronon, then Rodney. They both appeared just as shocked as John felt. The room was so quiet the rumbling of McKay's stomach boomed like thunder.

With a defeated look in her eye, as if this choice had been also taken from her, Teyla said, "I have been waiting for the right time to tell you, Colonel. This is not how I had planned it."

John bit his lip and nodded. The implications were too much to take in. He wasn't happy or sad or… anything. They could talk logistics later. Right now, the bigger questions was… "Keras?"

On the other hand, Keras seemed genuinely happy at Teyla's news; his eyes sparkled even though his reply lacked the reassurance they all hoped for.

"I would give you a plain answer if I could. I know only that we teach our young of this heritage in their fifteenth year as instructed by the Elders. The ability is with them at birth as it is with all of us." He knelt down in front of her and took her hand. "I have read that the curse can transfer to the unborn, but to tell you, Teyla, I only know for certain that time will provide you the answer you seek. Your mate should be told, of course," he added, turning to the other men.

All heads turned to Teyla. John cleared his throat and McKay's cheeks started to pink. She seemed to blush as well as she acknowledged, "Of course."

~~*~~

A large clearing lay beyond the tree hut on the outskirts of the second city. Surrounded by tall trees, the center was laid out in a circle with stones to form a pit. The team sat in front the pit, which now blazed with a roaring fire, their faces warmed by flames that rose like phoenix feathers into the night sky. Keras sat with them, along with Cleya who sat near Rodney. Neleus, whom John thought of as head of security, and several other lookouts stood around the perimeter of the clearing as sentries, weapons in hand.

Keras had been unwilling for the team to return home without learning all they could of the Nau'li and without knowing their Hala and what to expect. He hoped to teach them how to control the urges they would encounter. Earlier, John and Ronon had hiked back to the jumper to check in, report the bogus Ford sighting, and advise Colonel Carter that they'd been invited for a sleepover, with a bonfire and 'smores and… well, he'd left it at that.

As much as John didn't like the situation they found themselves in, he agreed with Keras; there was no way they could return to Atlantis, pass the med checks, and go on as if nothing had happened unless they knew how to control the situation. Because passing the med checks and going on as if nothing had happened was exactly what they had to do. McKay was a walking panic attack all by himself.

Sitting there now listening to Keras translate from one of the Elders' scrolls, John began to sense something in the air – the presence of something or someone, or maybe it was just the shadow of the elders. He shook it off and concentrated on Keras' voice.

"The true Elders believed the Nau'li provided the transfer of a person's most remarkable qualities into their alternate form." He explained that in taking the form of their Hala, they were free to be the embodiment of their own heart and that the gift was for use in reflection of one's self, for making important decisions that affected the villages, and for readying for battle. "The Elders believed a man's mind had to be free of all else in order to see his true self and the Nau'li was the way for him to do so."

John still found it hard to believe any of this hokum. It sounded very new-agey, and what more gullible souls might accept. Moreover, he thought, he wanted a physiological explanation—maybe some form of mania made the person believe he'd been transformed into a god. Still, that couldn't explain what he'd seen, what he'd felt.

"It is equally important to control your return," Keras continued. "That is a more difficult task given the state of your mind and heart."

"But before, it was easy. We just…"

Keras turned to face John. He looked older in the firelight, wiser and years less innocent. "Your change was interrupted when Ares was struck down—the same with the others.

"Even though you are all bonded, you have different natures, different origins, and each of you will produce a different Hala. You will feel it more strongly in your alternate form and it may feel like war because of the differences in your true selves. So you must establish a common ground, something that draws you all together—something that will overpower the opposing feelings."

"That should be simple," Rodney offered. "We're teammates—we've already proven we're ready to die for one another. That has to count for something, right?"

John grinned and thought to himself of all the many times. Yep, that had to be a damn good start.

~~*~~

Whatever Keras had thrown into the fire, it sent the flames rocketing higher. John's stomach quivered. He'd be steady as a rock if he were readying to fly a mission, but this…

Keras talked them through the process once. It wouldn't be the same as the first time because the shift from the bite and the shift by choice, the true Nau'li, required more. But his mind was ready, though he'd had to do some heavy lifting to clear the way past the many barriers to wanting to see his true self.

He stared into the fire, sensing again the subtle changes around him. He could smell the ash on the embers that had fallen away from the blaze, see the colors deep inside the flame, from the blues and greens to the near white where the fire is hottest, and felt the lick of the flame tips inside his bones. He heard every buzz and wing overhead, the sound of Rodney's shallow breath, and sensed his fear. He thought to himself, _it's okay, Rodney, I'm with you_ , then cleared his mind again as the thought left his body. Maybe Rodney would be able to retrieve it somehow.

In the back of his mind, John recalled the pain and the unvarnished terror of before; he hoped Rodney wouldn't go through that again… or Teyla, or Ronon. Keras' voice was soothing in the background, telling each of them to think of how they'd felt after shifting into their alternate form, to see their Hala behind their eyes, which didn't make much sense to John—he just started to think of the changes in his body. Keras said when they were ready… to step into that form, to step with their entire body.

John took a deep breath as all his senses magnified even more. His limbs felt loose, and he could feel the pull; it was seductive and sounded like blood pulsing in his ears, a throbbing drub as if it were the planet's own heartbeat. His muscles began to twitch; he was ready.

He found room in his mind to suspend his disbelief, or was this only the urgency Keras warned of? He wanted to give in, had to know for himself. He couldn't breathe. His body teemed with desire, and when it finally connected with his mind, he was certain all the air lay in his next step.

When he stepped forward, it seemed as if he'd been sucked into a vacuum; it felt familiar, like going through the gate. Then his lungs exploded, his body shifted, muscles lengthened, bones creaked, but the pain was quick, like a surge of power swimming through his veins at breakneck speed.

His throat was dry with the need to speak. When he did, his coat bristled with the high, mournful tone of his howl. Breathing harshly, sucking the air like an engine, he turned to face the others, heart still racing but with a confident calm that told him he was all right. More than all right.

The others had shifted as well. They stood facing him, the faint trace of their comingled breath on the wind. Introductions weren't necessary. The piercing blue eyes staring back at him and the scent of pure arousal was enough. Rodney's coat shone in the light and his movements were open and sure as he came closer.

Teyla shimmered in the light from the moon, her cat-like pace distinct and graceful. Her coat was pure white with jet-black stripes. She was more cautious as she approached the others with a low purr rumbling in her throat.

"You may speak in these forms, but that will take some getting used to. Speech doesn't come as easy as the body shifting."

John turned to the direction of the voice. Now he recalled the great gray wolf he'd seen fighting that morning. Keras sat stoically before the fire, the reflection of the flames dancing inside eyes the color of dusky emeralds. In that moment, John sensed kindred between them, not unlike their first meeting. A sound nearby pricked up his ears. Keras turned toward it and John followed.

Heavy footfalls came toward them from the forest. John and Keras immediately lurched forward. The others had shifted too, the sentries, moving with them, some on two feet, some four. With a crash of broken limbs, a large figure broke free of the underbrush. Upon reaching the clearing, it reared up on its hind legs, towered over them, and pawed at the air.

John ran ahead; he intended to be a barrier between this newcomer and the others. A dry, animal-pelt odor hit his nose as the animal flung back its large head and roared. The sound of it shook the ground, but that only spurred John on. Amid snarls and growls, teeth that checked but didn't bite, came a mad circling and flurry of fur. The cat was too big but John had no intentions of giving in first. He wrested away from the clutch, both of the beasts falling back on all fours.

The big cat paced before him in measured, sinuous strides shadowed by the firelight, its long mane of hair matted with twigs and leaves… and one single silver adornment that John recognized immediately. He felt his heart lighten.

A huge paw swiped at him playfully. Ronon turned toward the forest then looked back. He crouched as if to pounce and swung his head in the direction of the forest again. John understood his meaning. He turned and looked to Keras then to the others.

"I will see to them," Keras said, nudging the air with his snout bidding him to go.

John had no hesitation. He bounded away with Ronon, lungs stinging with the cool night air. His vision was as sharp as crystal and the ground beneath his padded paws felt like home.

It was nearly daylight when John and Ronon returned to the clearing. John shook his coat free of the dew. The smell of the new day was in the air, along with the odor of dead wood. The fire burned low, the remaining logs gutted and ash white.

Rodney and Teyla were still sleeping, their human bodies covered by blankets. Cleya sat nearby, sipping from a cup. She was once more a young girl, not the silken-coated, blond mountain cat with grey-green eyes she had been the night before. She had stayed behind while the sentries – dogs, foxes, owls – had accompanied him and Ronon with a pounding of paws and the great flutter of wings.

John was exhausted but exhilarated with the energy and heart of a much younger man. It flooded his brain with endorphins and more mixed emotions than his marriage. Nothing short of flying had ever given him such a sense of freedom. During their run, he hadn't pondered any great thoughts or attempted to make any decisions; he'd only delighted in his Hala and the peace of knowing his true self wasn't some child-eating ogre or seven-headed hydra. But as his gaze once more fell on his sleeping teammates, he knew it had to end.

As Keras came forward to greet them, the space around John's head began to darken. He could still feel Ronon's hot breath on his neck, but it was as if someone had pulled a plug. The surge diminished by degrees and he felt himself shrinking. He pictured it as a reverse detonation and all of it was happening at the speed of cooling lava. Behind his eyelids, colors flared then dimmed. Life itself seemed to grind to a halt. With one full-body shudder, he was back… standing naked before Keras, who held out a bundle of clothing with human hands.

John took the clothes and the boots without embarrassment. There was no room for modesty. He and Keras were alike in so many ways and now one more.

When he and Ronon had been tearing through the forest, he'd splashed through a small pond. After scrambling out onto the bank, John had turned back and waited for the water to still. Even with the bright light from the moon, it was difficult to make out details. What stared back at him was what he recognized as a wolf and he'd smirked at his earlier assumption. The massive head and neck, the pointed ears and the eerie glint of teeth were not to be mistaken. He'd only had to look down at his own hands to see the dark colored fur and the fierce curl of claws for validation.

As John began to dress, he sensed a scuffle behind him. Keras and Cleya were attempting to talk to Ronon – trying to calm him and help him to release, but the big cat only paced and snarled. Ronon's eyes were golden-yellow and almost transparent when he held his head a certain way. John saw something there, something he recognized in the eyes of the cagey specialist the team had encountered years ago. But before John could weigh in himself, Teyla rushed forward. She held her hand out to the big cat, and immediately the dangerous curl of his muzzle dissolved. Still, he paced.

"Ronon, it is all right." Teyla's voice, her body language, was a testament to her stature as a leader and esteemed negotiator. "You do not _need_ to run anymore. No one here will hurt you, but we have to go back now. Back home to Atlantis." As she spoke, she stroked the matted mane.

Ronon's eyes locked with John's. John nodded, and in what seemed like mere seconds, Ronon the man stood before them. He would not look at them at first. When Cleya handed him his clothes, he only coughed to clear his throat and took them from her.

~~*~~

The tea was a bit too flowery, but it was strong and warmed him as John drank. Cleya had made them breakfast. Having the appetite of five men, John devoured the smoked meat and round loaf of bread. He watched the others; they all appeared equally ravenous.

As they ate, John caught Rodney looking at him, or was it the other way around? Keras told them the Nau'li would bring them all closer, all vested with more of a "brother's keeper" role than ever before. He explained that just as Teyla had shown with Ronon, sometimes the release was difficult. "Your mind resists it," he said quietly, and that made John wonder about Keras' strength and what the experience was like for him.

It would get easier, Keras promised. Each of them would have to find that one element of their lives that would break the spell.

"If any of you, out of fear or out of choice, cannot break free on your own, another of you needs to be there. There is no real danger here when someone goes out alone, but surely you see that your needs are different."

"Yes, Keras," Teyla said. "We understand."

"Isn't it something that will come with practice?" Rodney asked

"With experience, Dr. McKay." Cleya stood and poured more tea for Rodney. "If by practice you mean to shift and release in succession, that is not the best way."

Rodney held his cup and fixed the girl with a strange look, as if he was suddenly aware of her presence.

"Doing so will exhaust your body," she said, and it was hard to tell if it was a blush or just the rosy haze of the coming day that colored her cheeks. "It was also Ares' undoing—by thinking himself a god above his Hala."

"It became more difficult for him to release or he chose not to," offered Keras. "He mocked the Nau'li and his punishment was to remain as Kit'ue."

John watched Rodney's eyes widen, still finding it hard to separate lore from truth. It was fairy-tale stuff, comic book fodder, but what he knew for certain was that he and his team could transform their bodies into animal form. That and they needed to hide that fact from an entire military base, the SGC, and the IOA. Easy, right?

Yeah, and if he could figure a way to use his new super-power to obliterate the Wraith threat, they'd make him a goddamn hero… before they locked him up and threw away the key.

~~*~~

When they returned to Atlantis, their top priority was locating a suitable place where they could go when the urges became too much, which they sometimes did. At first, they'd pack up and head for the mainland, but it got harder and harder to excuse the four of them being away at the same time. It was easy for Teyla – visiting the Athosian settlement was a given and she had assured the others that Kanaan would be told when the time was right.

Ultimately, Rodney came up with the answer. One afternoon, John stopped by the lab to check on Rodney – that was his story and he was sticking to it – because the urge to shift sometimes would freak Rodney out and he'd need someone to talk him down off the ceiling. Teyla was the best at it and John had even grown a little concerned at how much time they spent together. But that day, Rodney's eyes were bright and he had a Cheshire grin on his face.

"I found it," he said with all the triumphant sublimity of a Madam Currie or Sir Edmund Hillary. "The residential tower off the Southwest Pier."

"Oh yeah, the rooms off limits and unfit for human habitation?" Actually, that sounded good to John. No military personnel were stationed in that area. Damaged initially in the City's ascent to the surface, the already flooded portions had taken a real beating during the great storm.

"Yes, but there are some floors where the structural damage isn't that bad. We sent teams in once we re-landed and made a list of the more habitable areas." Rodney flipped through screens on his laptop. "We decided to keep a list of those for emergency use," he added, turning the computer around for John to see. "And I'd file the sudden urge to shift into a Siberian husky pretty high on the emergency list."

John grinned at the drawn out way Rodney emphasized the word Siberian. He remembered the detail all right, and while he wouldn't want to spend all his time there, it was perfect for shifting. "As long as we can get to the West Pier, we—"

"Right. Way ahead of you, Sheppard. I've figured a way to reprogram the transporter near the secondary jumper bay to take us the deactivated transporter in sub-level one of the tower."

And he had succeeded. A ghost program that left no trace but worked like a charm, because what was the use of just taking a transporter from wherever to the West pier and crossing the little bridge to the residential buildings when you could be all 007 about it, leaving off entirely the logic that with the subcutaneous locators, they could always be found.

In this lair, they mastered the Nau'li and release, each in their own way. As Keras had told them, it took longer for speech to come. Rodney was the first to perfect it (to no one's surprise). Prior to that, his efforts would bring on that long-suffering, constipated look to telegraph his frustration. John thought it was kind of cool that he could still recognize that look through all the fur.

It was also here after the birth of Torren that Teyla could watch him and help teach him. The child had been prone to involuntary shifting for several months. Rodney posited that once the cognitive and motor skills were a little more developed, it would become less of a problem. As it was, it often only took a nudge or a roll for the release.

Looking back, their time had not passed easily – a new planet, a new expedition leader, and countless threats to the team and others on and off world. Controlling his shift had not been as difficult as John had first imagined. The responsibilities, deaths, and watching out for the team had plagued his mind. Losing Teyla had been the worst, for Ronon and Rodney too. They all found it difficult to keep their anger at bay, which only fed the protective urges.

Now, slipping inside the residence tower, they padded through the hallway, much quieter since Rodney's mouth was occupied carrying their surprise package. John was very fond of these evenings when they would all get together. There was a big open ballroom nearby where he and Ronon could spar and now and again Teyla would bring something tasty back from the mainland. They were all there for each other, and just as Keras had said, they'd all become closer, their bond as teammates and friends even stronger than any of them would have believed possible.

Tonight, though, even though John was sure Rodney had no trouble picking up the signals he was giving, he thought it might be enough just to lie together. That way he could feel Rodney's heart beat and know he was okay. Sharing a few bones would give him a good excuse for licking Rodney's face. That is… if there was a bone left to share.

"I wonder what Ford would have thought of this," John mused aloud. "What do you think his Hala would be?"

Rodney stopped and deposited the bundle on the floor. He looked thoughtful. "Depends," he said. "The Ford I knew, probably something fun… a kangaroo or an otter."

John saw in Rodney's eyes the same thing that stuck in his own chest whenever he thought of Aiden. "The Ford I saw last… a jungle cat with moves like a ghost. You'd never see him coming, and then he'd be on you like flies on sh—crap."

"You expect to find him some day, don't you?"

John grinned. "Never give up, Rodney…"

"Yeah," Rodney replied, trying to get a good grip on his parcel. "We don't leave people behind."

"That's right."

As they neared their den, John paced a little closer and bumped shoulders with Rodney, knocking him off his stride for a moment. He weathered the glare from those icy blue eyes, screwing his face up into a pout until Rodney huffed a sigh and bumped him back.

**Author's Note:**

> Beta Credit: Many thanks for last minute excellence to mischief5 and to melagan for alpha reading and sounding board duties.


End file.
